Fair dos, though I shall continue to cling to the hope that one day I'll find a ryona story where the protagonist decides to keep their beaten female adversary for their own continued amusement rather than kill them on the spot. Killing the golden goose and that.

What's the most off-the-wall (by your own standards) idea that you've had for an encounter like what are posted here?

I'm sure the ending of most of my stories could be rewritten in a way to have the unfortunate victim be kept as a sex slave instead of slain, but that would probably be for another message board. I actually have one rewritten right now without the death ending in order to try to get it commissioned as a comic; we'll see if anything happens from that.

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I do like that Noob Saibot fatality - I was thinking Living Forest for Taki though; that was always my favorite stage fatality in MK9.

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I did read that also, but it makes me wonder how Shao Kahn is able to be everywhere at once to narrate all these fights. "Somebody's getting the shit kicked out of them after an ambush in the Flesh Pits, my liege, better head there fast just in case you're needed. And then you have your regularly scheduled 10:30 fatality in the Arena to announce."

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So the last story at least had an excuse for someone not bleeding out with a severed arm (laser cauterization, woo!) but I don't have anything to lend any realism to this one.

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Setsuka bit back a moan as she played with herself, one hand cupping her large breasts, the other kneading her sopping pussy. Her kimono fanned out around her, her sheer purple top stretched over the top of sizeable bosom for easier access to her alabaster titflesh, and her white panties pulled to the side to reveal her shaven pussy. The reason for her excitement slept soundly on his back a few feet below her perch on the barn loft - Heishiro Mitsurugi, the man that had slain her master. And now, the blonde swordmistress would secure her revenge with her own hand - after it finished its current business, of course. Setsuka's arousal grew as she fantasized about what would transpire in a few minutes. It had been easy to track him to this abandoned barn in the desolate wasteland of Soul Edge's influence - a trail of destruction followed the samurai. It would be just as easy to finally destroy him, Setsuka thought to herself as she tweaked her stiff nipples. She'd jump down while he was still asleep, and take his head. Not a fair fight - but there was no point in fairness in taking revenge on the man that must have cheated in order to slay her master, who had taught her everything she knew about swordsmanship.

After that bloody work, Setsuka imagined as her elegant fingers eagerly worked her dripping cunt tunnel, she'd get herself off with his severed head - rubbing her pussy all over her trophy until it glistened with her honey. It was only fair, after what had happened the last time they fought. Setsuka's pleasure-slick vagina pulsed as she remembered the humiliation - her sword knocked away, being forced to her knees with his blade at her neck, the feeling of him using her long blond hair as a leash, the taste of his cock in her mouth, and the feeling of his seed raining down on her face and cleavage. He had left her lying on the ground after claiming the spoils of victory, his jizz painting her body and the kimono that her master had gifted her. Shame had filled Setsuka as her fingers had pushed into her panties to slip into her inflamed pussy as she lay defeated, bringing herself to squirting orgasm as she fantasized that it was her master's cock that she had worshipped, her master's seed that she was scooping off her tits in order to lick clean, her master that had overcome her and taken what he wanted from her body, not the man that had slain him.

Yes... it was only fair that she return the favor, Setsuka thought to herself as she looked down, only to see a sight that made her breath quicken as an even more cruel revenge wiggled its way into her thoughts. Mitsurugi must be having a pleasant dream, Setsuka observed as she gazed at the tent he was pitching in his hakama as he slept - it would be a shame if something were to interrupt that in the worst way.

Setsuka bit her lip to avoid crying out as lust rushed through her, her orgasm bubbling over at the thought of slicing off the samurai's erection. Her voluptuous body quivered, fingers clamping down hard on her stiff dark pink nipple and pearly clit. Her shapely ass humped forward into the air as she squirted, a crystalline spray of her juices launching from her spasming pussy off the loft to soak the wooden floor beneath. It took her a few minutes to recover, her bountiful chest rising and falling with her panting, before she reclothed herself, pulling her top back over her tits and adjusting her panties back over her pussy - the white fabric nearly turning slightly transparent from the wet petals they contained. Setsuka straightened her kimono and climbed down, her sandals making muffled creaks on the wooden floor as she strode towards the slumbering samurai. Time to finish off her unsuspecting target.

Except Mitsurugi was not nearly as unaware as she hoped. True, he had been in the grip of quite a pleasant dream a few seconds ago - a memory of his final victory weeks ago over his rival Taki. The kunoichi clad in a skintight red bodysuit had been a thorn in his side for quite a while. They had clashed several times all across Japan and Europe in the quest for soul edge, each battle ending in frustrating stalemate. It had been particularly frustrating to him, watching hearing Taki's shrill, almost sexual cries as she fought, her massive tits jiggling and bouncing with every motion. She had taunted and teased him each time they fought, flaunting that voluptuous body while laughing at his inability to take her down. He had stared at the kunoichi's round ass retreating into the distance multiple times, another battle ending in her escaping to ambush him at some point in the future yet another time.

So it had come to his delight when he finally overcame her, his sword powering through Taki's defenses to plant squarely into her toned belly. He fondly remembered that feeling of his body pressing into hers as he stepped into his thrust, feeling the rigid tension of battle in her frame dissipate as her mind registered her defeat. His frustration was translated to a cruel sense of victory as he saw blossoms of blood erupt around the cold steel, soaking the front and back of her bodysuit with darker red patches as she bled out. That sense of triumph only intensified as Taki dropped her swords, her hands fumbling desperately over his in an attempt to pull herself off the blade. He had looked directly into her face, drinking in the shock in her teary brown eyes, observing the trickle of blood coming out of the corner of her luscious lips to stain her mask. Her breasts had heaved mightily as she struggled, her engorged nipples catching his eye with their stiffness as they poked out of her bodysuit.

A sense of power filled Mitsurugi as he threw Taki to the ground, forcing his body on top of hers as he beat away her weak struggles. He felt even more satisfied as he penetrated her, when he realized that her pussy was already dripping wet and waiting for him. He wasn't the only one delighted with his victory - it seemed Taki's body was also taking great pleasure from her defeat and complete submission to her rival.

He had fucked her with wild abandon as she bled out, her cries as he took her thick with unwanted arousal. Mitsurugi reveled in the feeling each time her shrieks and wails had raised an octave, feeling her pussy clamping down on his cock as her silky walls twitched in blissful release. Finally, as he released his sticky load into his rival's womb, he had decapitated her, his sword slicing through her slender neck cleanly. The helpless pained orgasmic expression on Taki's face was one he wanted to preserve.

A local alchemist, in exchange for quite a large sum of coin, had helped him with the grisly symbol of his victory he had brought. Now magic preserved Taki's severed head exactly as it was when it had left her body, Mitsurugi's trophy of his defeat of her. Of course, it had a practical purpose also - on many a lonely night on the road, he had enjoyed the memento his rival had unwillingly left for him, forcing his cock into her slack mouth and using it to pleasure himself. He had done so this night, triggering his pleasant dream of his conquest of Taki before Setsuka had intruded upon his temporary dwelling.

That dream had ended a few moments ago, droplets of something wet and warm splashing onto Mitsurugi's face and rousing him from his slumber. Through hazy vision lit by moonlight filtering in through holes in the barn roof, he saw a set of painted toes in thick sandals striding over to him, a familiar kimono trailing behind the woman's strides.

Grunting and grabbing his sword, the samurai vaulted to his feet. Hadn't this bitch learned from what happened last time to stop chasing him? He wouldn't mind a tumble with her again, as she was certainly quite a prize, but she was also a dangerous opponent - her swordwork swift and deadly.

Setsuka cursed in frustration as Mitsurugi awoke seconds before she reached him, her vengeance a bit more difficult now that he was conscious. She considered lunging at him to try to catch him by surprise, but knew better. The samurai was a skilled fighter, and losing her balance could quickly mean her end from a vicious counterattack. Instead she paused and opened up her umbrella, waiting for him to move.
Mitsurugi paused also. Setsuka was every bit the picture of female sensuality in her geisha's outfit. He took in the sight of her - coldly beautiful face glaring haughtily at him, the swell of her large breasts beneath her thin top, creamy thighs boldly exposed by her opened kimono - the flowing garment shifting and offering just a hint of the swordmistress' white panties.

He spoke first, readying his sword.

"You're eager to die... very well then."

Setsuka continued leveling her icy gaze at him.

"My life is not yours for the taking."

As she finished speaking, she casually tossed her umbrella at Mitsurugi, the colorful surface twirling through the air as it fluttered towards him. The samurai ignored it, following Setsuka's feet which were suddenly a blur of motion. He knew what was coming, but the ferocity still surprised as him as he ducked under the parasol and brought his blade up to block Setsuka's attack. Sparks flew through the air as she drove her blade into a clash with Mitsurugi's katana.

"I live only for revenge!" Setsuka spat at him, "You shall feel the wrath of my master's blade!"

Her weight shifted as she disengaged, feinting backwards before attacking Mitsurugi's shoulder with a chop. The samurai angled his body to away from her strike, feeling the steel whistling past his bare skin. He counterattacked with a low slice aimed at Setsuka's shapely legs, which she dodged by leaping backwards, the motion causing her large chest to bounce. The motion continued as she caught her breath, planning out her next move.

Setsuka somewhat regretted using her parasol sheath as a distraction - in a battle of single blades, having some protection would have given her an edge. She eyed its resting place near where Mitsurugi had been initially sleeping. If she could get to it, it would be useful - but for now, this was a lethal battle of swordsmanship, agility, and positioning - neither fighter having any recourse against a counterattack on a missed wild strike.

The brief pause ended as Mitsurugi circled into mid range striking distance, pressing his power and reach advantage over Setsuka's shorter and lighter blade. She deflected two quick overhand strikes, the samurai's blows aimed at knocking her sword out of position for a lethal second strike. Angling her blade had let her avoid that though, and Setsuka closed the gap as she counterattacked, sword thrusting forward.

Mitsurugi was ready, however, twisting his body out of the way and forcing Setsuka to leap back again as his katana cut upwards through the air, his aim to cleave her in two, starting with her pussy. As she landed, Setsuka felt a breeze on her chest, her mammaries jiggling far more than usual. She looked down and saw her purple top fluttering to the ground, Mitsurugi's katana tip having sliced through the thin fabric on its upwards trajectory. Setsuka caught her opponent leering at her revealed breasts, her stiff pink nipples standing out proudly from the round orbs as her face flushed in shame.

She glared at him, anger welling up within her, as well as a strange guilty pleasure at being exposed. Her pussy twitched, dewy droplets of honey gathering as she remembered the last time he had seen her tits, they were covered in his seed.

"At least end your life fighting with honor. You deserve no mercy." Setsuka spat at the samurai.

Mitsurugi laughed at her.

"If you want to kill me, you'd better bring a whole army!"

Setsuka's face flushed further, anger coursing through her. With a yell she dashed forward, breasts wildly bouncing from the sudden motion. Her sword whistled as it cut through the air, aimed at Mitsurugi's neck. The samurai raised his sword to parry the blow, already shifting for a counterattack. But Setsuka was already on the move again, dodging laterally to where her parasol lay. She had caught the warrior flat footed - her forceful feint had convinced him she was attacking out of anger, but she was really after the sheath of her sword.

"This will give me the edge," Setsuka thought to herself, as her off hand closed around the cool lacquered wood. It wouldn't take more than one or two blows, but it would let her attack and defend all at once whereas Mitsurugi was limited to one at a time with his single sword. And one defense was all she would need to land a lethal blow on the samurai. Setsuka's pussy moistened at the thought, her nipples stiffening even further. "Maybe he can get a nice look at my tits before I pluck his eyes out."

Mitsurugi wasn't going to let her get the advantage uncontested though. Snarling, he unleashed another powerful two-handed rising strike, aimed at her center of mass. Setsuka recognized that the blow had enough power in it to cleave through her sheath and smiled as she again jumped backwards to avoid it, tits jiggling. Now the samurai was open, she thought to herself, powerful legs tensing as she prepared to land and instantly dash forward to strike him before he could bring his sword back. Her pussy twitched as it wept its tears of joy - her revenge was at hand.

But that revenge never materialized. As the swordmistress landed, her sandal skidded through a patch of musky liquid, Setsuka's own earlier pleasurable emissions causing her to now lose her balance. Her left arm flailed out as she tried to keep her footing - a fatal mistake. Mitsurugi's sword easily cleaved through her slender arm on its path up, and the samurai was already attacking with the second strike in his combination before Setsuka's now severed arm had even started its descent. The samurai's sword came down on the opposite side of Setsuka's body as Mitsurugi leaned into the strike, the blade slicing through the tattoo on Setsuka's outstretched right upper arm.

Setsuka shrieked in agony as her lovely arms fell to the ground with wet thumps, the clattering of her sword and sheath hitting the wooden floor drowned out by the disarmed woman's wailing. Setsuka's eyes bulged as they bounced around frantically, disbelievingly looking at the two stumps spewing blood where her limbs had once been. She tried to move what was left of her arms but only succeeded in making her shoulders twitch, disrobing the defeated female fighter as her kimono slid off her heaving form and to the ground. Her breasts bounced obscenely as Setsuka stumbled around, gasping for breath in between screams of pain.

"No!" Setsuka cried out. "No! No! Please! No!"

The woman's knees knocked together weakly as she turned around, body swaying drunkenly as she tried to flee. It was to no avail though. Mitsurugi easily caught her from behind, grabbing her long blonde hair and violently throwing her to the floor atop her bloodstained kimono. Setsuka cried out as she landed on her juicy ass, her writhing pulling her wet panties to the side and revealing her lewdly twitching pussy. Her tits jiggled as droplets of her cunt nectar dotted the ground, Setsuka unable to contain the ecstasy her traitorous body was feeling at being overcome by the man she had swore vengeance on.

Knowing that her demise was near, Setsuka did the only thing she could with her legs - obediently spread them open for her conqueror to take her. Shameful, humiliating thoughts filled the defeated swordmistress' head as she presented her ripe pink pussy to the samurai that had cut her down. Setsuka had fancied herself an unstoppable demon of revenge, but she knew she secretly wanted Mitsurugi to tame her again - to cut through her defenses and ravage her, taking what he wanted from her voluptuous body. She had wanted him to take more than her mouth this time - she wanted him to claim her womanhood, punish her and put her into her place as a slave to his cock. Setsuka moaned as these thoughts filled her head, hoping her shameful display would entice Mitsurugi into burying his dick into her silky depths before she bled out.

Luckily for her fantasies, Mitsurugi was quite turned on by Setsuka's defeat and the erotic screaming that accompanied it. He was atop her in a flash, his manhood plunging deep into her pink flower's soft squelching folds. Setsuka screamed again, but this time in pained arousal as he penetrated her. His hands grabbed at her large bouncing breasts as he pistoned in and out of her, using the soft titflesh as leverage while playing with her nipples, the nubs stiff and engorged with excitement. Setsuka's thick thighs wrapped around him, her muscular legs pulling Mitsurugi deeper into her pleasure-wracked loins as her consciousness faded. He could feel her sandals pressing into his back as he drove into her, forcing her to higher and higher planes of pleasure.

Setsuka's tongue lolled out of her mouth as the climax hit her as she expired, blackness filling her vision as ecstasy consumed her body. Her last words had been incoherent rambling, begging her hated rival to take her as his trophy. As Setsuka drew her last breaths, her orgasming pussy clamped down on Mitsurugi's cock, pushing the samurai over the edge. He grunted as he flooded her orifice with his seed, her vagina spasming in climactic death throes milking him for everything he had. The man sighed with pleasure as he battered his cockhead into her womb before pulling out as Setsuka's demise started robbing her body of its elasticity. A mix of their sexual fluids dribbled out of the defeated swordsmistress' gaping pussy as Mitsurugi withdrew and tucked himself back in, eying the sexy blood and cum soaked corpse and pondering what to do with it.

Eventually, Mitsurugi settled on also taking Setsuka's head as a trophy. Her lovely mouth would make a great alternative to Taki's for those nights when he needed to reflect back on the battles that had earned him his prizes. He resolved to make his way back to the alchemist as soon as possible - first, to preserve Setsuka's pleasure stricken expression for his future use, and second, as he pictured the alchemist's alluring curves in her revealing purple outfit, he had a third busty bitch he wanted to fuck into submission and add to his collection.

Kano groaned as he heard those words, head throbbing as he tried to regain his senses. That red-clad bitch had really beaten the shit out of him, he thought ruefully to himself as he watched Taki striding imperiously towards him, her large breasts bouncing gently. It hadn't been much of a fight, not after she had ambushed him in the mists of the Living Forest. It looked like not every female warrior in this strange realm he had been sent to was as easy of a target as Ivy had been, Kano mused, the fond memory of the dominatrix's humiliating death stirring up Kano's loins. Watching Taki's tits jiggle, her nipples hard points jutting through the fabric of her thin bodysuit, stirred up even more of a feeling. It's too bad that he hadn't been able to see how those felt; it certainly had been hard to fight against the ninja with his erection straining against his pants from the erotic promise that Taki's scantily clad body represented.

Taki had certainly noticed Kano's distraction during their fight, choosing a selection of attacks that had sent her voluptuous tits bouncing, put her big ass in close proximity to the man's leering face, and shown off her tender fabric-covered snatch. He had been so easy to manipulate, clearly thinking about what he was going to do to her without even coming close to winning the fight. Of course, Taki had those fantasies as well - only hers were going to be realized.

She had observed Kano's battle against Ivy from a medium range, concealing her presence through her shinobi arts. That concealment had almost been ruined as Taki had played with herself while watching her rival's demise. She had battled with the tall woman many a time, their encounters often ending with Taki a bound plaything, struggling helplessly against her bonds while Ivy's boot heel penetrated the Asian slut's climaxing petals. So she had enjoyed herself greatly, kneading her breasts and rubbing at her crotch while Kano humiliated Ivy. And Taki had to bite her lip to keep from crying out at Ivy's evisceration, her entire body trembling as she made a wet sticky mess in her bodysuit.

That observation session, though, was just as productive as it was pleasurable. The learnings from it had also given Taki a leg up in her battle against Kano. She had taken great pleasure in nullifying all his tricks and surprises after she tracked him down in the Living Forest, arousal building in her as she reduced a dangerous opponent to putty in her hands. Now, it was time to enjoy the fruit of her victory.

Taki shoved Kano against one of the many trees of the forest, eliciting a grunt from him.

"You're all talk. Stay down." she commanded, her hand creeping down to the bulge in his pants. Taki wrapped her slender fingers around his rod, feeling it spring to life as she freed it from his clothing. His weak moans as she slowly slid her digits up and down its length excited her, Taki's nipples stiffening even further as drops of honey gathered on the surface of her bodysuit below her mons. She could feel his precum staining her fingers as the scent of his manhood reached her nose. Taki gulped, an urge to taste it rising within her as she slid one finger between her swollen pussy lips, lightly stroking herself through her costume. Checking to make sure that her opponent was still out of commission, Taki lowered herself to her knees, wrapping her luscious lips around Kano's inflamed cockhead.

The kunoichi gave a muffled moan as Kano groaned from the sensation, Taki's tongue washing over the veiny length of his dick. She expertly took it into her mouth, lust bubbling through her as she tasted his saltiness, washing his cock with her saliva. Slurping noises filled the air as Kano struggled to stay standing. Taki reveled in her work, tweaking her nipples and teasing at her clit as Kano's head spun. She imagined what were to happen if the rough man regained his senses - would he take advantage of her masturbation to grab her head and impale her throat on his cock? Maybe he would hold her there, his erection asphyxiating her, until she expired, her death throes pleasuring him into shooting a load of cum all over her corpse.

Taki almost came on the spot at the thought, and had to gather herself to shake the masochistic fantasy out of her mind. Besides, it looked like Kano was in no condition to act it out, with his knees knocking together and body swaying from side to side. Taki wasn't sure how much of that was from her blowjob and how much of it was from her beating of him. At the very least, she hoped he was healthy enough to fulfill her next desire.

Taki's mouth withdrew from Kano's cock with a wet popping sound, the throbbing erection glistening from her tongue's attention. Precum was smeared all over Taki's lips. The kunoichi panted, heavy chest rising and falling, as she stood up and spun Kano around so he was facing the tree she had leaned him against. She needed something to fill her up, bad. With a tearing sound, she gripped the fabric of her bodysuit at her crotch and pulled, exposing the dewy petals of her pussy.

"You won't be able to move for a while," Taki said as she leaned against the tree and pulled Kano close to her. The kunoichi lifted up one long leg and stood on the toes of her other, positioning the tip of Kano's cock at the drooling, slightly spread folds of her labia. "Try not to struggle."

Taki gasped in ecstasy as she lowered herself onto the stiff protrusion, Kano's dick sliding easily into her well-lubricated folds. Her ass jiggled as she lightly bounced up and down, feeling the suction of her cunt tunnel on the organ. Taki whimpered in frustration, unable to get the right angle so she could feel Kano's manhood in her womb. She decided to solve that problem, and her well-trained body tensed up before she swung both legs up, wrapping her thick thighs around Kano's midsection while her legs crossed behind him.

Taki cooed in pleasure as she used her legs to pull him deeper inside of her, toes curling as she mashed herself backwards into the rough bark of the tree. Her moans intensified with the wet slapping noises of their union as she bounced back and forth between Kano's body and the tree, the motion sending her large breasts on a ride of their own. Those moans intensified into shrieks of ecstasy as Kano suddenly tore open the chest of her bodysuit with his teeth before lapping at and suckling Taki's stiff nipple.

"So pitiful." Taki managed to choke out before she was pressed even harder against the tree, the sharp surface of the bark tearing at her bodysuit and scratching her backside. The slight bits of pain amplified Taki's pleasure, the kunoichi letting loose with shrill lustful screams as Kano pounded her. She wondered if she should finish him, as he seemed to be regaining his mental and physical faculties - it would feel quite nice to ride him as the life left his body.

"Don't hate me," Taki smirked at him before tightening the grip of her thighs, the thick muscles squeezing into Kano's rib cage. The man wheezed as air escaped his lungs, an intense pressure assaulting his sides. Frantically, he slammed Taki repeatedly into the tree, the kunoichi yelping with arousal from both the rough treatment as well as Kano's cock driving deep into her womb. She squirmed in ecstasy, the surface of the tree now gouging lines of red across her back but doing little to dissuade her attack.

"What a pathetic way to go," Taki managed to breathlessly exclaim in between her moans, feeling her climax building and nearing. Her further words were cut off as Kano brutally slammed her against the tree with the last of his effort. Taki shrugged off the attack and even welcomed it, her pussy clamping down tightly as Kano's cock buried itself into her deepest depths, hot nectar bursting out from around it as Taki quaked with lust. Her mouth opened to announce her orgasm - just as the tree behind her finally woke up and opened its own mouth.

Taki shrieked in a combination of ecstasy and terror as she fell backwards into the maw of one of the Living Forest's oldest residents, the sentient tree roused from slumber by a combination of the impacts and the kunoichi's delicious lifeblood. The bitch managed to squeak out a quavering "No!" in the midst of her climax, her body writhing in pleasure and also from the sharp teeth now digging into her back. As her orgasm subsided, Taki observed through her clouded eyes a ring of sharp wooden teeth surrounding her midriff. She weakly tried to pull herself out, hands grabbing at the base of the tree's mouth, but the slutjuice-squirting orgasm had robbed her of her strength. Instead, all she could do was cry out in terror as the tree's digestive system went to work a split second before it started chewing.

Sharp wooden tendrils inside the tree sought out the most nutrient rich portions of its victim - Taki's delectable, delicious tits. The kunoichi thrashed as the needlelike tips of the tendrils stabbed into her large breasts, preparing to inject acidic sap to digest the lovely mammaries. Taki's eyes rolled into her head as two tendrils plunged right into her stiff nipples, the erect buds' agony sending a spike of pleasure through Taki's tortured body as humiliation washed through her. She could still feel Kano's cock inside her honey-soaked pussy, thrusting, the man leering at her as he witnessed her erotic execution.

It took the first bite for Taki's second and final orgasm to bubble over, the defeated kunoichi screaming as the living tree chomped down onto its meal. The sharp teeth severed her lovely hands from her arms, both of them falling to the ground outside the tree, grabbing fruitlessly at air. Her toned abs were now a bloody mess, scraps of flesh and partially split organs holding her two halves together. Through the pain, Taki could feel Kano's cock erupting inside of her, his seed mixing with the girlcum her spasming cunt was pumping out.

Taki's legs helplessly spread as strength left her body, the limbs falling limply to the wayside as her body shuddered in its final climax. She managed to weakly moan before the tree bit down again, multiple times, intent on dragging the sexy morsel into its gullet. Each repetition elicited a pleasure-tinged shriek of pain from Taki, the last bits of flesh and organs holding her together splitting apart in the onslaught. The shrieks abruptly stopped as Taki expired, Kano reveling in one last glimpse of her dead eyes and lovely tits before the bloodstained jaws closed, Taki's upper half disappearing forever. The only thing left of the formerly proud female ninja was her severed hands and her shapely bottom half, leaking organs, blood, and spinal fluid from one hole, and a mixture of semen and Taki's slutjuice from another.

That left one hole, Kano thought to himself as he pushed the voluptuous legs that had formerly been wrapped around him to the ground. Taki's shrieks amidst her messy demise had gotten him awfully turned on again, and her upturned ass was just the right thing to take care of that problem. Soon Kano was groaning as he pushed Taki's fleshy asscheeks together, roughly sodomizing what was left of her corpse, delighting in her twitching legs flopping around beneath him. He left her there after he finished, Taki reduced to a set of legs leaking cum from her ravaged pussy and asshole. Eventually the vermin and scavengers would consume even that, Taki's name forgotten, just another set of bones strewn about the Living Forest.

Dangit, and there I was getting excited that Taki looked like she was making it out alive for once. Considered using any other MK characters than Kano? God knows there's more likeable ones, and ones capable of more inventive endings than he can do.

I guess this would be the final chapter to the preceding two MK/SC crossover stories:

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Ivy awoke with a start, screaming hoarsely and thrashing. Her legs kicked wildly about as if she was falling, as her arms flailed for purchase.

Arms?

Ivy's panic subsided slightly - arms. She had both of her arms, passing both of them in front of her face to confirm. The tall woman then started patting down the rest of her nude body, taking inventory. No spikes through her legs. No spikes through her belly. No spikes through her shoulders. Her head was intact.

The alchemist sighed. It had all been a dream, she thought as her hands lingered on her heavy breasts and stiff, blood-engorged nipples - a very, very, pleasurable dream. She hadn't been beaten into submission, Ivy thought to herself, one hand stroking her inflamed teats as the other made its way down to her honey-dripping gash. Her elegant fingers made their way into the silky flesh, pleasuring herself as she recalled her dream.

She hadn't been forced into a squirting climax from being spanked by Kano, hadn't debased herself begging to be made into a big titted trophy for her conqueror, hadn't sucked his cock while playing with herself, hadn't humped his fingers like a whore while he held over a metal-lined pit of death, and most certainly hadn't been thrown to her demise, her voluptuous body pincushioned by cruel spikes as she came helplessly... as this last "memory" filled Ivy's head, she cried out in orgasm. Ivy's body writhed as her hand in her pussy and fingers crushing her erect wine-colored nipples elicited a spray of girlcum from her spasming cunt.

Panting heavily as the ecstasy from her masochistic fantasy subsided, Ivy took stock of her situation. She was lying in a cot in a small room, location unknown, sunlight filtering in from a barred window on the door. Her sword hung, retracted, on a mount on the wall. Her skimpy outfit was folded neatly on a table next to her, her armor and high heeled boots laid out as well.

Ivy got up, head clearing, and started putting on her clothes. She had no knowledge of how she had gotten here, her last memory her dream of being executed by Kano. As she squeezed her sizeable breasts into their confines, she frowned. Her outfit felt rougher, unfamiliar, not quite fitting exactly as she remembered. The fabric was fine, but it felt like a well-done copy rather than hers.

Valentine, though, felt real enough - the snake sword extending and retracting smoothly on her command. Ivy took a few test swings, confidence running through her from the feeling of the metal cutting through the air. Her preparations complete, she strutted towards the door, ass seductively swaying as her high heels clicked on the floor. It was time to find out where she was and who her hosts were.

As she opened the door, the roar of a crowd washed over her in conjunction with brilliant sunlight. Her bright green eyes blinked a few times as she acclimated to the change in brightness. This was some sort of arena - and the muscular man clad in blue, cold mist rising from his skin, must be her opponent. Ivy stepped forward, boots crunching on the sandy fighting surface, and the door she had exited from closed behind her. That made it a whole lot simpler, she thought to herself - her only way out was to win the fight.

Ivy strode towards the man, boots crunching on the dirt of the arena floor as her large breasts swayed with her motion. The blue ninja's eyes tracked her as she made her way to the center of the arena, before settling into a fighting stance as Ivy neared. The dominatrix couldn't see any weapon wielded by the man - was he seriously intending to fight her unarmed? It was his life to throw away, she mused as an ominous voice echoed throughout the arena.

"FIGHT!"

Almost immediately, the man dashed forward, only to immediately dash back as Ivy's extended sword lashed out him. She glared imperiously at him, her short white hair settling into place.

"Well aren't we cheeky. This will be fun."

Sub-Zero gave no verbal response, his only reaction the frost starting to form on his fingertips.

===

"FINISH HER!"

Ivy moaned helplessly, her bruised, battered, and bloodied body shivering from both the cold and a sense of humiliated arousal as Sub-Zero approached her. She had been no match for him, her sword knocked from her hands and encased in a block of ice. Its mistress now suffered the same fate, her arms and legs frozen in place inside a frame of ice that left her suspended spread eagle. The crowd cheered at Ivy's exposure, her outfit ripped and torn to reveal her voluptuous bosom and lovely lightly white furred pussy. Rivulets of arousal ran down Ivy's thighs and froze into place on the blocks of ice encasing her high heeled boots - the beating that had been inflicted upon her fulfilling her suppressed desires to be put in her place for her arrogance.

Ivy closed her eyes and moaned as Sub-Zero stopped behind her, iciness shooting through her as he grabbed two handfuls of her soft titflesh. The defeated dominatrix whimpered as he played with her hardened nipples, the buds stiff from the temperature, but more so from Ivy's humiliation at hearing the crowd's cheers. She could feel his clothed erection pressing into her fleshy backside, and soon she found herself gasping with pleasure as he freed it, rubbing it all over the surface of her dewy labia and between her thighs, collecting the juices that were flowing freely there. Those gasps turned into moans as he finished teasing her and began the main act, slowly driving his nectar-lubricated manhood into her trembling puckered asshole.

The crowd roared as Ivy's face betrayed her words as Sub Zero fucked her in the ass.

"Stop!" she tried to command, "No! No! I don't... I don't..."

Ivy's words trailed off as her eyes unfocused, mouth lolling slack as the shameful pleasure of having her big ass anally penetrated in front of thousands of people erupted within her. Her round tits bounced in Sub-Zero's hands as he thrust in and out of her, the anal reaming making her squeal in delight much to her chagrin. Ivy's assflesh jiggled as she was taken from behind, Sub-Zero spanking her intermittently between his thrusts. The treatment left frosty handprints on the alchemist's voluptuous cheeks, rendering her gasping for breath at the chilling sensation on her inflamed butt.

Ivy's moans amplified further as the now submissive dominatrix felt Sub-Zero's hand reaching around to stroke her dripping pussy. She could feel frost gathering on her labia as the wet petals met the cryomancer's touch. Those moans turned into outright screams as her swollen clit fell victim to Sub-Zero's powers, pain shooting through the sensitive nub as he squeezed icy crystals into it. Cheers from the crowd drowned out Ivy's cry of orgasm as the pleasure overwhelmed her, her ass clamping down on Sub-Zero's cock. He roared as the sensation combined with Ivy's obvious masochistic delight sent him towards the edge also. The bitch's climax only intensified as she felt Sub-Zero's thrusts quicken and deepen, his cock filling her up. Ivy let out a throaty cry as her spasming pussy squirted out a stream of honey, the musky liquid instantly turning into an icicle from Sub-Zero's touch.

Ivy's body was still shaking orgasmically in her icy bonds as Sub-Zero snapped off that icicle, leaving a shard of solidified girlcum protruding from her cunt. Her pleasure-drunk mind was confused for just a moment before she screamed in agony, blood bubbling out of her purple painted lips as Sub-Zero returned her frozen juices to where they had come from. Ivy's body writhed as she was impaled on an icicle of her own squirt, the sharp ice forced up through her frozen pussy and erupting from between her heavy breasts. She whimpered helplessly as she stared in horror at the jagged tip, bits of blood, organs, and pussyflesh slowly sliding down the icy surface. That whimper was soon transformed into a wet gurgle as Sub-Zero grabbed the back of her neck before ripping upwards, decapitating Ivy and taking her spine with her severed head.

Ivy's eyes stared sightlessly forward as her body twitched spasmodically in its death throes. Sub-Zero roared in triumph as he held her head aloft, feeling the deceased dominatrix's ass milking his cock as she expired. As he finished filling Ivy's ass with his seed, he slammed her head back down onto the icicle impaling her. The crowd cheered at the sight he left them - Ivy's abused and decapitated corpse still frozen in her bonds, leaking a streamer of frozen cum from her well-fucked ass and impaled with her own frozen slutjuice, her head nestled between her tits and staring into nothingness.

"SUB-ZERO WINS! FATALITY!"

===

Ivy awoke with a start, thrashing and screaming as she grabbed at her dripping pussy and between her heaving breasts. No ice... there was no ice thrust into the warm gooeyness of her cunt, nothing impaling the silky walls she was now exploring with her hand, body quaking in ecstasy as her screams turned into cries of lust. Just a dream... just a very pleasurable dream...

Softly moaning, she turned to look at her clothes and armor on the table next to her, ready for her to squeeze her voluptuous figure into for battle. Soon she was clad in the skimpy outfit and grabbing her sword off the mount on the wall, opening the door into the sunlight...

===

Ivy screamed as the monk grabbed her high-heel boot clad spread legs, pulling them upwards. The beaten dominatrix felt a sick sense of aroused anticipation as she eyed the razor edged hat spinning dangerously close to the cleft of her exposed vagina, the slightly open lips slick with her honey. Her big tits heaved as she looked between them, nipples stiffening in excitement as she knew what was coming next. The crowd roared as Kung Lao ignored Ivy's desperate pleas and pulled her into the makeshift saw. Her body convulsed in depraved climax as the sharp edge cleaved through it, splitting in half her squirting pussy, fleshy asscheeks, toned midsection, and jiggling breasts. Ivy's ecstatic agonized cries were finally silenced as Kung Lao's hat cut through her skull. Cheers rained down on the monk as he held up the two halves of Ivy's annihilated corpse, blood and organs spilling out onto the arena floor.

===

Ivy awoke, fingers desperately thrusting into her surprisingly intact vagina, girlcum oozing out of the heated tunnel as the slut furiously finger-fucked herself to toe-curling orgasm. A few minutes later, she was out the door, vagina twitching in anticipation of her next one-sided battle.

===

Ivy's screams cut off as her head was ripped from her body by Reptile's tongue, leaving a trail of blood in the air. Ivy's decapitated corpse stumbled around on her high heels, girlcum streaming down her shapely thighs. Her large breasts bounced erotically as her sexy body finally collapsed to the ground, twitching and spasming in her death throes...

===

Ivy panted in depraved lust as Goro held her upside down, her well-stretched pussy orgasmically contracting as it exuded a cocktail of Shokan cum and her nectar. The sexual mixture ran down her belly and over her heaving breasts, dripping into the dominatrix's open mouth. Her severed arms and legs lay on the ground, spurting blood, and Ivy soon joined them as Goro ripped her in half before throwing her down...

===

Ivy begged Quan Chi for more abuse as he beat her with her own severed leg, needing the sweet release that only being humiliated and annihilated could provide the fallen ice queen. She gibbered out an exclamation of ecstasy as her skull was smashed to a pulp, blood and her brains splattering into the arena sand...

===

Shang Tsung laughed as he used his magic to watch Ivy stumble towards the door of her cell as she groped her tits and pussy, the slut not even bothering to take her sword as she entered the arena to seek her next defeat. His eyes swept over the rows and rows of vats in his Flesh Pits containing a multitude of copies of Ivy, each awaiting its own implantation of her now broken soul. This experiment with the souls of this dimension's Earthrealm had been quite a success, he thought to himself as he shot a load of cum into Taki's eagerly sucking mouth. He rewarded his concubine by sending a wave of magic to engulf her, the arcane energy eating away at her bodysuit and attacking her erect nipples and sopping pussy. The kunoichi's high pitched shrieks of ecstasy filled the Flesh Pits before Shang Tsung silenced her by ripping the whore's soul from her devastated body. He made a mental note to himself to have the next Taki clone clean up the mess by throwing her own former corpse to the dogs. Maybe he'd even let the kunoichi have some fun by offering herself up as their plaything and meal, Shang Tsung mused, before turning his attention back to his view of Ivy's latest arena demise.

It's an interesting concept, having Ivy's soul being shoved back into new bodies so that she can go on Kombating for however long it takes for Shang Tsung to get bored of her, but it kind of hits on a problem I'd been noticing with your stuff as you produced more of it. Though, I don't think that my perception of this is limited to just yours, it's something I've noticed with a lot of people who write a great deal of snuff (and which I've talked about before).

After a while, all the torture and the death and everything just start blurring together for me and losing what had made them special and noteworthy in the first place. It's like when you put too much salt or chilli or whatever in your food, the specific tastes of the ingredients get lost under it all. You know how they say variety is the spice of life, to continue the metaphor.

I know it's your fetish, and I can't begrudge you that, but when all the characters you use are masochists that get off to their own murdering in pretty much the same ways it makes them hard to distinguish from each other and kind of misses the point of using different characters in the first place. I feel.

Don't get me wrong, it's all still well-written and I'm sure arousing for anyone who doesn't have the same hangups as me. This is just personal opinion on my end. If you felt any of my points were valid (cause like I said, it's just personal opinion), then I'd be delighted to try and help you come up with new stuff. I already have one idea involving Ivy and some Lizardmen, but it lacks body, and would (at the moment) just be a straight-up snuff fic.

That's very valid criticism, but also, in my view, criticism that innately comes with the territory.

Objectively, none of this is great writing. There is no real story being told, no point being made. In the end, the writing is meant to fulfill a selfish desire, not to create art. In my opinion, creativity with this type of story is limited to a few specific areas:

1. Intense descriptions of the action, such as with the fight or snuff scenes. I know I can do better with this; I just don't have the patience to really flesh out the details or the skill to paint a better picture of what's going on. I just vomit words out in a stream of consciousness, trying to capture the grotesque images in my head.

2. Characterizations and motivations. The one thing I specifically try to avoid in writing stories is being able to do a find + replace of the victim's name, and have the story work for any other character. I always try to maintain some level of validity relating to the character's given personality, and do things like work in actual quotes and dialogue from the source material. That said, it is no substitute for having real character development, which I have exceedingly little talent for. As such, I am limited to piggybacking off existing characters and relying on familiarity with those to provide what passes for motivation for mine. It also doesn't help that I'm corrupting those characters into a one-sided caricature of themselves because... well, I'm writing a snuff fic.

3. A really interesting scenario or world.

Does it make sense from an overall writing perspective to tone down the torture/death and work on developing characters and details? Absolutely. Does it make sense for me to do so? I'm not sure. I'm very limited in range as a writer and I don't see myself improving meaningfully when my motivation for writing is essentially to record my own sick thoughts. An attempt at writing anything more complex than my current scribbles would probably just result in horrifically bad fanfiction.

I get what you're saying though. Even solely in the context of writing snuff, I can definitely improve if I stop shoehorning in my own fantasy into all my writing. It does get repetitive when every single story is building up to the same climax (heh). It's also repetitive when every single story involves the same set of characters, because I only write ones involving my favorites. I think the combination of those two is what leads to fatigue with my writing; I just don't know if I have the motivation to fix that.

(08-08-2018, 09:28 PM)desguardius Wrote: As such, I am limited to piggybacking off existing characters and relying on familiarity with those to provide what passes for motivation for mine. It also doesn't help that I'm corrupting those characters into a one-sided caricature of themselves because... well, I'm writing a snuff fic.

So? Just because it's a snuff fic doesn't mean putting in extra effort would be wasted. I've always thought that putting as much effort and development into the characters you're going to kill off as possible makes it better, because then their getting murdered or whatever actually makes it mean something to you.

Also, take it from me, there's no shame using existing characters. One of the greatest works of historical literature is the Divine Comedy, and it's pretty much a self-insert fic Dante did for the Bible. Seriously. Likewise many of Shakespeare's plays were based on other people's works or vague contemporary recollections of historical events. I especially enjoy using established characters myself because of the delight that comes with doing stuff of my own to them.

Quote:I just don't have the patience to really flesh out the details or the skill to paint a better picture of what's going on. I just vomit words out in a stream of consciousness, trying to capture the grotesque images in my head.

You're so down on yourself and I have no idea why. If I had a penny for every time I'd heard someone say something like that I wouldn't need to write for a living. Have you tried putting in more detail? Maybe, once you've finished the initial thing, go back and add more where it could be fit in, if you can't focus on it the first time around.

Quote:Does it make sense from an overall writing perspective to tone down the torture/death and work on developing characters and details? Absolutely. Does it make sense for me to do so? I'm not sure. I'm very limited in range as a writer and I don't see myself improving meaningfully when my motivation for writing is essentially to record my own sick thoughts. An attempt at writing anything more complex than my current scribbles would probably just result in horrifically bad fanfiction.

"Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp. Or else what's a heaven for?"

You don't think we all started out as good as we are, do you? For me it's taken about four years of hard work, and I only got to a state where I find my work meets my own standards last year. Everyone who writes like this I know has plenty of stuff they did starting out which they're disappointed at now. Especially me, oh god. I have no idea how long you've been at it for, but what we've got here is, taken chapter-by-chapter, excellent. I feel like here would be the best place to start trying to improve further. So they're good as a whole, and not just as individual instances.

You say that you don't know if you have the motivation to fix the stuff that's wrong with your writing. The only answer I can give to this is, sadly, another question. How much do you want to improve your writing?

There's absolutely nothing wrong with writing smut just to get your own fantasies on paper (or uh, digital paper anyway) first of all. It's not going to get you ably literature prizes anytime soon, but then again, I'm fairly sure there's no category for "Woman gets icicles through her cunt and cums" so I wouldn't worry about it.

The more you write, the more you improve- even if you feel it's "rubbish". Of course, the rate at which you improve can vary (you can apply yourself to different degrees) but you won't be improving by -not- writing.

In my case, I used to RP over the net for the longest time. Not even erotic stuff, just RP through chatrooms and shit. Looking back at it, I was awful. Really, really awful. But that's how I started, and it has gone downhill since then, hehehe!

But that's how everyone is from the start, really. I'd like to think I'm a better writer now, but that's the curse of all artists- you are never happy with your own work! Always comparing yourself to others, or only seeing the flaws of your own stuff.

The best advice I can give you- that helped me out the most, anyway- is that you should write what you find fun. If that means you keep writing the same type of scenes, that's completely fine! Perhaps in time you'll want to write other things- and then again, perhaps not!

The important thing isn't that you feel it's a chore, but that you genuinely enjoy yourself when writing. I think that produces the best results, and also provides the best framework for keeping the enthusiasm for writing.

(08-10-2018, 06:00 AM)Fanatisk Wrote: There's absolutely nothing wrong with writing smut just to get your own fantasies on paper (or uh, digital paper anyway) first of all. It's not going to get you ably literature prizes anytime soon,

Speak for yourself, I submitted a bit of a guro story I wrote for an assignment at uni once, I got the highest mark in my class. Traumatised the other students, but it was entirely worth it.

Seriously though, you're right on the money with the best way of improving being to write more of what you find the most fun. I get bored with stuff very easily, my own work included, so I'm constantly searching for new ways to change the formula and introduce new spins on concepts. That's why I'm always pushing people to try and expand out of their comfort zones, it was how I managed to get myself to improve in a way that I actually enjoyed doing.

Quote:Have you tried putting in more detail? Maybe, once you've finished the initial thing, go back and add more where it could be fit in, if you can't focus on it the first time around.

I think this is the main sticking point for me - once I write something down, I rarely go back and edit it. If I do, it's usually just to fix grammatical errors or correct awkward wording. I guess it's because of the nature of the work - once I have the fantasy down on paper, it's done. The inspiration is over, and putting more effort into it feels like a chore. I usually just end up writing something else that strikes my fancy.

I know if I want to get better I have to revisit my work critically and shore up the weak areas. But that's where your next point comes into play.

Quote:You say that you don't know if you have the motivation to fix the stuff that's wrong with your writing. The only answer I can give to this is, sadly, another question. How much do you want to improve your writing?

My motivation to improve my writing is just not very high. I feel like out of all the things I could be doing with my time, this should rank near the bottom. My writing stems more from a need to record my thoughts, and there's somewhat of a sense of guilt afterwards after I spend time working on one of these, like I could have been doing something "productive" with my time instead of spinning idle fantasy.

So I guess the answer is, I do want to improve my writing but I don't want to put effort into it beyond writing new stories (which I suppose is a start). I will be aiming to diversify my writing in the future as you're right, I think that can only help.

Quote:It's not going to get you ably literature prizes anytime soon, but then again, I'm fairly sure there's no category for "Woman gets icicles through her cunt and cums" so I wouldn't worry about it.

It's up to me to start the inaugural "Desguardius Award for Literary Excellence in Anatomically Improbable Snuff Scenarios" then!

Quote:The best advice I can give you- that helped me out the most, anyway- is that you should write what you find fun. If that means you keep writing the same type of scenes, that's completely fine! Perhaps in time you'll want to write other things- and then again, perhaps not!

The important thing isn't that you feel it's a chore, but that you genuinely enjoy yourself when writing. I think that produces the best results, and also provides the best framework for keeping the enthusiasm for writing.

(08-10-2018, 10:55 PM)desguardius Wrote: My motivation to improve my writing is just not very high. I feel like out of all the things I could be doing with my time, this should rank near the bottom. My writing stems more from a need to record my thoughts, and there's somewhat of a sense of guilt afterwards after I spend time working on one of these, like I could have been doing something "productive" with my time instead of spinning idle fantasy.

That's a real shame that you think that way. I always justified writing this sort of stuff to myself as it being just another challenge to overcome, through which I'd get better at what I was doing. I seem to have succeeded. There's plenty of bad stories in the world, and nearly as much bad fanfic, of all varieties. Anyone will tell you that. Knowing that what I was doing was better than the vast majority of its kind, I guess that was what made me keep at it.

I even make (some) money off it nowadays, as do other members of our community. That seems pretty productive to me. Maybe you could try and justify it to yourself like that, that if you get your work to a condition where people will pay for it (honestly I think you're most of the way there already by now) then it will have been worth your time?

I'll admit that when I started doing commissions, it was an immense boost of confidence to know there were people willing to pay for my writing. In a way, it's one of the most definitive proofs that others find value in it.

But it burnt me out for a whole year, because I took on commissions I didn't feel as inspired to write but the money was tempting- and even the commissions that I did like suffered.

Wasn't until I raised prices and made a deal with myself that I'd only take on commissions I found interesting that it really worked out well for me- but even so, tying your worth as a writer to whether people commission you or not is a bit risky.

Seeing it as waste of time, however, is a disservice to yourself. I mean, obviously you choose what you do with your time- but it can lead to places, absolutely.

If I can make money writing commissions to pay for art commissions... that would really be something. It's something to think about but I'm not sure how comfortable I am with the accountability that taking money would necessitate.

---

Here's something I wrote for a comic suggestion poll. The version I submitted was much more tame than this one though.

---

Taki laughed arrogantly as the gaggle of Lizardmen she had been fighting fled from the battle, chittering in terror. In the heat of battle, the busty kunoichi hadn't noticed what had caused their flight. She hadn't seen the ripples in the glassy water surrounding the makeshift arena, or the tendrils creeping up from the depths of the sunken shrine. This long-forgotten shrine belonged to no benevolent caretaker, but rather to an old god - a cruel one, hungry for sacrifice. The Lizardmen, while dangerous, were not the apex predators in this waterlogged temple.

Taki's bountiful chest heaved as she saw finally caught sight of the peril she was in, a mass of whipping black tentacles rushing towards the ninja as she drew in a sharp breath of horror. Her weak attempts to fend them off were easily slapped aside, the feelers knocking away her swords. Glowing pink kanji lit up on Taki's bodysuit as she channeled energy for an arcane attack, but that last resort failed as the writhing mass attacked her, whipping at her voluptuous body while enveloping her limbs. A brutal series of strikes on the ninja's bouncing tits broke her concentration, the sensitive flesh bruising as the magical attack fizzled into nothingness. Taki shrieked as her arms and legs were bound, her large breasts jiggling wildly as she twisted and kicked.

Those shrieks were silenced as a tendril wrapped itself around her slender neck, strangling her airflow as it wormed its way into her mouth. All the sounds Taki could produce were muffled protests as the other tentacles tore at her outfit, shredding the thin fabric to uncover the delicious morsel within. Taki whimpered as the feelers groped her tits, her nipples hardening at the strangely pleasant sensation of the suckers hungrily probing her voluptuous flesh. Those whimpers intensified into frantic moans as another tentacle found its way inside her exposed cunt, her labia lips dewy with forced arousal. Taki struggled fruitlessly against the assault, humilation washing through her as she felt her silky pussy walls clamp down on the slimy intruder, pulling it deeper inside her womb as she convulsed with unwanted pleasure.

Taki's cheeks reddened as she felt the rough penetration push her over the edge, a quavering moan signaling her submission as her hips thrust against the monster's probe. A rush of hot nectar mixed with the slime of the tentacle inside her as Taki came. Her body quaked and trembled as her struggles ceased, the forced orgasm sapping her of her energy. The creature felt the fight leave the kunoichi's body and began reeling its prey in, dragging her over the worn stone and leaving a trail of slime and girlcum behind. Taki grasped helplessly at the ground as she was pulled towards the inky depths, not finding any traction on the slick surface. She tried pleading for mercy, but all that came out of her stuffed mouth was unintelligible gibberish.

Taki managed one last frantic wail before she was pulled under the surface by the tentacles, the massive bulk of the ancient cephalopod they belonged to coming into view. Its beak opened up as it prepared to devour its meal. A stream of bubbles erupted from Taki's mouth as she tried to scream, eyes widening as she stared into its toothy maw. But she could only gurgle pitifully as she was dragged into the thing's gullet. The tentacles binding her retracted as the monster's powerful jaws took over, the sharp rows of teeth enveloping the kunoichi's weakly struggling body.

Blood clouded into the water as the edges sliced into Taki's flesh, cutting the formerly voluptuous forms into gory, easily digestible chunks. Even the kunoichi's thick, muscular thighs provided little resistance against the forceful bites, the creature delighting in the popping sensation they made as its teeth sawed cleanly through flesh and bone. It could feel its prey's struggles ceasing as her head slid into the meatgrinder, Taki's brown eyes staring blankly ahead as the beast's bite cleaved through her juicy tits and into her still heart. And then Taki disappeared from view, her limp wrists sliding in cleanly as the monster's greedy mouth closed over her. The beast savored the taste as it dove back into the depths, leaving a rapidly dissipating cloud of Taki's blood and bits of her flesh behind. It felt its meal settling into its stomach, Taki's rich flesh providing much more nourishment than the usual scaly snacks it could get its tentacles on. The only sign of the kunoichi's fate was the wet trail leading from her scattered weapons and costume scraps, ending at the water's edge.